


Eddie's own goddamn blog

by PreachingtotheQuire



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Blogging, Gen, food blog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreachingtotheQuire/pseuds/PreachingtotheQuire
Summary: Venom's been posting to Eddie's personal blog, and all was well until Venom started getting down and dirty with what's been happening between the sheets. The sneaky symbiote has been kicked off Eddie's blog, but Eddie *really* should have subscribed to Venom's new feed...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candleaight (itsmesammie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmesammie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [VENOM'S blog not eddie's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364734) by [candleaight (itsmesammie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmesammie/pseuds/candleaight). 



> A parallel blow-by-blow (get your mind out of the gutter, you know who you are) blog with clueless Eddie posting after each of Venom's posts. This one will hopefully put up each day after candleaight's posts - this story is a-ok with, and dedicated to, candleaight!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eddie takes back control of his blog

< HTML tag posts by title >

 

"Livers it smel so yummy"

< delete >

"Kidneys are my seconded favorite todday"

< delete >

"did you know spleens come in diffrent colors?"

< delete >

"and potatoes com in different shapesin the grocery stor"

< delete >

"Here are ddifferent things to do when you have shapely potatoes"

< delete >

< rename blog y/n>

Y

< FROM Eddie Brock on the Edge >

< TO Eddie's own goddamn blog >

To my loyal followers: I genuinely apologize for the truly abysmal descent into irrelevance in this blog as shown by several recent postings. My psychotic roommate has been evicted and will no longer have administrator access to this blog.

However, a more personal touch can be effective in social media. From now on I will be including short clips of a more intimate nature so my readers can get a grip on the day-to-day life of a reporter. These clips will appear each day at the top of my blog posts. So, starting tomorrow, I invite you to enjoy the experience of the daily...

STATE OF THE UNION ADDRESS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really glad if you read all the way to the end of this, and I hope you've enjoyed it! Future installments coming shortly...


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand Eddie's first State of the Union on what he finds that morning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corresponds with candleaight's ["Chapter One - egg"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364734/chapters/40860317)  
> Please read that one first, else this one won't make sense! :)

___STATE OF THE UNION___

Good morning boys and girls,

Today's eye-opening glimpse (ha) into this reporter's life is quite domestic, and yet quite puzzling.

Upon awakening, I discovered tiny calcareus shards deposited on my pillow. They were layered with some sticky substance and had adhered quite effectively to the lower right-hand third of my pillowcase. A complete change of bedclothes seemed appropriate.

The second item was a mysterious tempera artwork curling across part of the breakfast bar. It was composed of several thicknesses, or layers, as an iconographer might shade a religious likeness. However, the layers seemed to form a single horizontal line, and pressing my fingers along from left to right I could almost feel an English word appear. "Congrgaggvitgton," however, is without meaning, so I will continue to ponder alternate readings periodically throughout today.

Coffee is called for, I believe.

###


	3. Chapter 2 - pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand corresponding with candleaight's "VENOM'S blog not eddie's", ch. 2, at https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364734/chapters/40905314#workskin - please read candleaight's before this one to make sense! And again, hyperlinks leave me distraught. :(

___STATE OF THE UNION___

A quiet evening last night, I went out for dinner and came home early. I'm certain I have lost a few brain cells watching that timely classic, "Aliens," however this representative of pop culture is a necessity for good journalism. The reporting on events in Puente Antiguo some years back shows that lack of a rounded education has stunted an entire generation of reporters.

  
For any journalist following my blog, I submit to you some classics of xenoarchaeology that are must-views for responsible reporting:

 

Xtro

Aliens and its sequels

The Deadly Spawn

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

The Thing

 

I believe these would form a solid foundation for future research efforts, and, there are many more. However, cumulative brain cell loss from viewing too many of these movin' pichers at wun time cayn effecxtt thee shawrt term quality of one's own reporting, so, caveat emptor.

 

Upon awakening this morning, I discovered something worrisome. An envelope had been slipped beneath my door, and it contained several legal documents concerning a local pizza shop. Included were a worker's comp. claim transfer about an employee who had been admitted last night for a 72-hour observation period for psychological distress, including hallucinations. There were also a restraining order on an unidentified customer and a small-claims court summons alleging the aforementioned employee had caused significant property damage at the store, including the destruction of an artisanal wood-fired clay pizza oven. I'm placing this envelope in the "Ignore It and Surely It Shall Go Away" pile of correspondence.

I must admit that the meaning of yesterday's egg tempera artwork on the breakfast bar remains a mystery. To be continued.

 

###


	4. Chapter 3 - dirt drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's response to Venom's late-night frolic with kitchen appliances...
> 
> Read candleaight's post below first! :)  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364734/chapters/40966313#workskin

___STATE OF THE UNION___

All of you… and I mean ALL of you… are aware that the one single chemical absolutely necessary for the production of media suitable for consumption by discriminating readers is…

CAFFEINE

Without it no man/woman/creature/sasquatch/were-individual/folklore folk/superhero/supernemesis/superstition/etc. etc. can fulfill their appointed duties. I count myself no less than these.

This morning I approached the coffee machine at my breakfast bar (said bar still adorned with the unidentified egg tempera artwork) and poured myself a cup of happily bubbling and justifiably jovial Joe. One deep, soul-stirring sniff, and my morning wake-up routine began. Leaning up against the breakfast bar, I arched my entire upper body over the one single focal point of my entire existence, my coffee cup labeled "Can't Get No Satisfaction," and breathed deep.

Having properly oxygenated myself for the next step, I tipped the cup towards my trembling lips and inhaled an entire mouthful. (Yes, I'm pretty good at suppressing my own gag reflex (don't ask).) My physical response was unexpected.

There was something in my throat. In my mouth. On my tongue, gums, teeth. I gasped, choked, and blew the contents of my mouth straight across the counter into the living area, over the couch, and on the wall. Sliding to the kitchen floor I could hear my own lungs dealing with an influx of I-knew-not-what, a sound like "hurk, hlurk, hurk urk" burbling out of my mouth.

Grainy, brown-black slime dripped from the corners of my mouth, and I looked toward the shattered clay of my dear, dear mug. Pooling beneath it was the offending liquid, and shakily I reached out my (middle) finger to draw a line through the murk. Dark granules ground beneath my fingers and a sudden blast of self-doubt shook me to my core. Had I possibly forgotten to put in a new coffee filter? But the machine had already been perking when I came out. Would it be at all imaginable I had set up the timer last night and in my torpor forgot such an essential step?

Levering myself upright, I saw my spew soaking into the couch and trailing down the wall. My hands were flat on the kitchen counter, and the last straw that wrecked the remnants of my very, very nasty, no good, horrible, awful, miserable morning was...

The precious egg tempera artwork had been totally washed away.

###


	5. Chapter 4 - sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things devolve to powder and ashes... and here's to Captain Hook!
> 
> A followup to candleaight's most excellent series, "VENOM'S blog not eddie's" chapter 4, sandwich at  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364734/chapters/41031062#workskin
> 
> Read candleaight's first, so the following makes sense... :)

___STATE OF THE UNION___

Remember that crazy roommate I mentioned awhile back? Well, turns out he's apparently busting into my apartment and using my laptop. Hang on while I clean up this blog.

< HTML tag posts by title >

<sub criteria:misspellings>

<sub criteria:punctuation-anomalies>

<sub criteria:xref-mental-illness-classifications-ICD-10>

 

its not you, its me an guys in apatmet 4b lasst nnight

<delete>

no no bad no eddie pleeeeeees nooooooo Banjo music nooooooo

 <delete>

i ate last night banjo, had gass, toots souNd lik Dueling Banjos

<delete>

Eddie exposay of Deep fryers  peenut ol conspirasy heere yuo herd it here fiRsts

<delete>

 

All right, faithful readers, on to the true Address. I had a bit of a spring cleaning frenzy yesterday, honestly not just to clear out the cupboards, but to see what all here are actual comestibles. Things might be a little slim here in the Brock household. There were a few main course items that had been inaccurately labeled with an expiration date.

Expiration dates, I am convinced, are merely a swift marketing tactic to encourage desperate consumerism. Therefore, I kept three bags of rotini pasta expiry date two months ago, one can of asparagus soup expiry date last month, and one small jar of chocolate spread, whose label, being smeared, may have expiry date in either January or November, but the year is entirely obscured.

There was also, finally, one ragged looking box of chocolate brownie mix. Somehow whilst rearranging the cupboard the box was ripped open and the powdery contents cascaded onto the floor. In a show of camaraderie with my frugally minded compatriots the world over, I swept up the powder and poured it back into the box, for future disposition.

I retired for the evening, somewhat concerned for _goddamn we're gonna starve Brock get your effin' head screwed on gotta find a job gotta find a job_ the state of my food supply. Having had a fearsome nightmare about drowning in an asparagus-noodle casserole, I woke this morning tangled in the bedclothes. Once having extricated myself from the sweaty sheets, I shuffled into the bathroom. Having tempered the hydraulic pressure imbalances of my body, I washed my face and scrubbed at my eyes prior to taking stock of my appearance in the mirror above the sink.

I stared, smacked my lips, stared again, rubbed my eyes hard with the heels of my hands, bared my teeth, and squinted in the glass again. I had a silver tooth. Teeth, rather. Two molars, one incisor, and one eyetooth. I blinked. My tongue smacked of a layer of chalky dust, reminiscent of very low quality cocoa powder, sliding over these newly adorned teeth.

The image didn't change, so experimentally I said, "Arrrrh!" I ran my tongue over my teeth once more and it appeared the silver was truly well adhered. "Arrrghrrr!" I said, more loudly.

All right, I thought to myself, the holiday has surprised me, but let it never be said that Eddie Brock is inobservant of any prospective bacchanal. I must have made my preparations in the early hours of the morn, that I be better prepared for the celebration of the day. The coffee pot was a welcome sight, and after having checked it carefully, I poured myself a cup and began rehearsing for the celebration. I looked about the counter and did not see the tiny pot of elixir chocolate spread, but I shall search for it anon.

I began rehearsal that I might not make a fool of myself later this day whilst going for job interviews, and bellowed forth, "Arrrg! Arrr! Oy!"

And thus began the disaster of me failing to double check the date of...

Talk Like a Pirate Day.

###

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not clear, Eddie's unexpected dental caps are from Venom's eating the chocolate with the wrappers still on. Eddie got the foil stuck in his teeth. I'm sorry if I didn't get it across well!! :P


	6. Chapter 5 - brownies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Identity confusion, role confusion, power and agency confusion- a potent and explosive mix, especially with an ancient toaster oven. Oh boy.
> 
> Read candleaight's chapter first, it is the setup/background for Eddie's own blog entries - enjoy!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364734/chapters/41265890#workskin

___STATE OF THE UNION___

 

How seriously I take my duties as a responsible journalist, entirely dedicated to presenting events with an impartial and comprehensive hand, is representative of my dogged determination to succeed. Long and rambling prose is the territory of literary giants whose works defy the spans of time, and whose tomes are of no interest to me. My small and timely efforts are effectively shoehorned into arbitrary word counts, the ever changing vagaries by sometimes uneducated and oft uninformed persons whose grasp of the relative importance of the events and likely social consequences of the mind-blowing agglomeration of type-face I can produce daily can be easily overlooked by the hidebound throwbacks of the Victorian era, also known as editors.

Notwithstanding, personal affairs must sometimes press aside this righteous diatribe. I have suddenly been granted (talked into) the sole custody (Lord help me) of someone I am told is a distant relation. He being so very distant is documented by the multi-page chain of evidence charter detailing the acquisition, pedigree, lineage, descent, and provenance which so devolves to my own family as to remove all doubt.

The letterhead of the service responsible for the chronicle is, curiously, "The Life Foundation." As time allows, I will surely investigate such a company capable of presenting a remarkably thorough presentation.

In the dusk of this ending day, I frowned down at my new charge, who had no luggage at all and had perched himself so helplessly on my doorstep, and considered whether I might be the best choice of custodian for him.

The clincher was, however, when he looked up at me with wide-eyed innocence and said softly, "Hi, Eddddddiiiiiiiieeeeee......."

We had brownies last night. He did quite well for a first-time baking attempt. I am proud of him.

###


	7. Chapter 6 - untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad times in the Brock household. Alien angst here!
> 
> Corresponds with candleaight's [Chapter 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364734/chapters/41323421#workskin)  
> Please read that one first, else this one won't make sense! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: alcohol abuse, hangovers

___STATE OF THE UNION___

I haven't felt this bad since college. Crashing frat parties, picking up dates at sororities, dancing, pool, cards, boilermakers. It's a miracle I was able to walk across the stage for my diploma. Urghrh my stomach just flipped over from typing all that.

Did you know it's possible to get blackout drunk on Miller Lite? I learned last night. Dreams and memories and fears for the future rattled around in my head until the rising tide of beer turned all my jetsam into flotsam. Urghlgh hang on folks <retching> <toilet flushing>

I'm a damn good writer, but that last bit turned my stomach inside out again. Man, what a loser.

Luckily, my new family member has been a godsend. Venanzio has already learned the lay of my domicilic land, and was able to find me crackers, and some ancient peppermint gum, and even helped me to and from the bathroom. When I woke up sometime in the mid afternoon, though, I found that Ven (my new nickname for Venanzio) had somehow managed to cram a stick of peppermint gum in each of my nostrils.

The smell of peppermint did indeed calm my stomach, and although it felt weird and uncomfortable I decided to take a selfie, since I don't imagine I'll ever be in a situation where I'll have gum poking out of my nose ever again. Ever again. Like, ever. {insert photo here}

Me having alcohol poisoning has been really hard on Ven today. He's been very anxious, and I guess he's never seen a loser get wasted before. He did so much to try to help me today, and it pisses me off that I've been such a horrible father figure.

I'm going to try to go to sleep for the night now. Ven is curled up tight on the covers next to me, hopefully asleep. Tomorrow has got to be better than this. The worst part is, it's my own damn fault.

###

 

 

 


End file.
